


our hearts will move with the tide

by fulmentus



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, POV Second Person, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bc that's all i can write during nanowrimo apparently, little snapshots of their honeymoon, these two are very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27786247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fulmentus/pseuds/fulmentus
Summary: “they’re adorable,” you explain, sweeping your thumbs over the curves of her cheeks, poking at the dimples you find there. “like you.”Santana's mouth twists. “did you just compare me to a crab?”
Relationships: Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	our hearts will move with the tide

sometimes, you can’t believe that you get to have this forever. 

( _forever_.

it’s one of those concepts that you’ve always understood — time marching onward, onward, onward.

like infinity.

you wrap your head around the thought, nestle it somewhere close in the back of your mind because oh, when you look at her, that’s all you can ever think about. time rolling forward, forward, forward.)

your eyelids flutter, squinting to peer through the darkness, and you nuzzle closer, nose stroking across bare skin, following the slope of her shoulder. she shifts beneath the touch, hand skimming over the one you have resting on her stomach, fingers splayed there.

her hair tickles your cheeks, spun in thick raven strands, glowing in the lines of light from the window shades. you can’t see her face, not from this angle, but you know she’s awake now, her chest rising and falling against your hand.

her fingers dance along yours, quiet, a gentle susurrus of sound.

“can’t sleep?” she whispers. she turns her head, just enough for the corner of her eye to catch in the dim light.

she’s soft and warm and pliant against your front, and you tug her closer, burying your face in the junction between her neck and shoulder, breathing in that sweet scent that’s just her. her, her, her.

(she looks at you sometimes, like you single-handedly hung the moon and the stars in the sky for her. eyes wide and impossibly dark, and so, so loving.

you frame her cheeks between your palms and kiss her silly every time.

because oh, doesn’t she know? she’s the one who painted the entire sky for _you._ she hand-picked every star, traced every constellation, gave you your whole world just by smiling at you. her nose scrunched up, her cheeks dimpled, her eyes soft, soft, soft.)

you hum, and you feel her giggle rumble against your palm.

you press down, just a little, to hear her gasp.

“Britt-Britt,” she murmurs, turning over in your loose embrace.

her eyes are impossibly soft, her lips parted in that smile of hers — that disbelieving one that stretches her mouth like she can’t quite understand how you’re real — and she brings her hands to your cheeks. trails her fingertips over the arch of your brow, the bridge of your nose, immortalizing you in every reverent stroke.

your hand slides along her waist, her skin sleep-warm beneath your touch.

“you’re beautiful,” you murmur, blinking slow, lazy, thoughts a little hazy from how lovely she is. your fingers skate up the ridges of her spine, relishing in the shiver the motion causes. sink into her dark mane of hair.

she laughs, quiet, breath fanning over your cheeks. “so are you.”

your legs tangle together beneath the blankets, and her belly lies flush against yours. you breathe in sync, content to simply bask in each other. 

you gently uncurl the tangles in her hair, and she kisses you, softly, sweetly, like this is all she ever wants to do.

it tastes like golden sunlight and liquid warmth.

—

she considers you, soft and curious, the MIT sweatshirt she stole from you completely swamping her figure.

“you want to walk the beach right now?” her voice is raspy from sleep, and she draws herself into an upright position, swiping at the corner of her eyes.

you prop yourself up on an elbow, tilting your head to gaze at her.

“it sounds romantic doesn’t it?”

“anything we do together i consider romantic.”

her face scrunches up again, and you can’t help yourself when you push yourself up to sit beside her, nudging your noses together. she touches her forehead to yours, breathing slow, and you inhale every time she exhales, working on a cycle.

“so is that a ‘yes’?” you ask, playing with this wisps of hair at her nape.

her eyes flutter closed, and she shakes her head, chuckling. “why not? but—” and her eyes reopen then, pinning you in place. you feel a little dazed at the intensity. “—if i freeze, it’s on you.”

you laugh, tumbling onto your back and pulling her with you.

her face lands on your chest, and you feel the echoes of her laughter reverberating through your sternum, spreading into every place you're touching.

( _i thought you wanted to take a walk?_ she teases a moment later, eyes shining and smile wide and helplessly adoring.

you press your thumb to the corner of her mouth, trace the familiar shape of her lips. _in a second._

she melts into you, and you wrap your arms around her shoulders, fiddling with the hood of your stolen sweatshirt.)

—

she shivers, arms coiled tight around herself, and you have every urge to sweep her up and keep her close, but oh, you giggle instead, not bothering to smother the sound.

she scowls at you.

“it’s the Bahamas, San,” you laugh. “you grew up in Ohio.”

“well sorry I’m not immune to cold ocean air,” she huffs. she blows at the errant strands of hair that fall into her face.

your lips press into a line, and you try to keep yourself from laughing again. but oh, it’s so difficult when she looks all ruffled and disgruntled, braving the ‘cold ocean air’ just because you wanted to take a late night walk along the beach.

the sand is soft underfoot, and you wiggle your toes into it, keeping your head down to help keep the giggles bubbling in your lungs at bay.

you can’t keep your eyes off her for long though.

not when her hand is reaching for yours, the glint of the ring on her finger shimmering in the silver light of the moon. you stare at it as her hand tangles with yours, squeezing tight. her palm is cold against yours, and you flick your gaze to hers, finding her already looking at you.

you skim your thumb over her knuckles, an almost subconscious motion.

she’s glowing when your eyes connect. beneath the moonlight with the spangled pinpricks of stars as your witness. the waves are a quiet background noise as you look at her, the tip of the tide glancing off the flats of your feet.

she shudders from the chill of the water, and oh, _oh_ —

you tug her hand, bringing her closer, and you brush the hair from her eyes, tuck it behind her ear. she cants her head down, almost bashful, and you laugh this time, a lilting ring that spans the small space between your faces.

“you’re ridiculous,” she sighs, fond.

the sound slips between your ribs, a tender curl of affection right where your heart lies.

—

you wake with the sun in your face and a wind lazily drifting over you.

you don’t remember leaving a window open when you dozed off last night — you were too caught up in Santana, always, always — and your thoughts are a little muddled, struggling to separate the rapidly fading glimpses of your dreams and the world around you.

you roll over, squinting at the sunlight, and find the bed empty.

(a part of you is disappointed, falling a little because oh, you spent so many mornings in the last couple years without her beside you, and here – oh _here_ – she always has been. soft and breathing even, the rise and fall of her chest your heart’s favorite rhythm to dance to.)

you blink, sweep hair from your face, peering around the room.

the door to the balcony of the suite is ajar, the pale sunlight of morning slipping through the cracks, and you slide off the bed, bare feet padding against wood.

she’s a vision.

soft and suffused in the sun’s gentle rays, still wearing your sweatshirt, her knees tucked up to her chest.

there’s a scent of coffee on the wind, and it’s only then that you notice the mug in her hands, the steam curling off the rim.

“i made you a cup.”

she has her head tilted over the back edge of the recliner, her grin upside-down and lopsided.

“oh.”

you hadn’t – you were too distracted by her (you always are, magnetized to her in a way you always have been since you were children, always reaching, always finding, always falling back into that familiar ease that has only grown stronger with time).

“it’s gonna get cold,” she teases, eyes glittering with mirth.

“i should—” you lift your hand, jerk your thumb behind you, but oh, she’s – she’s so beautiful like this: soft and warm, curls of raven hair falling over her shoulder. “—go get that.”

she keeps smiling, and you wonder how it’s possible that your heart keeps growing warmer and warmer the longer she looks at you like that.

(she says she counted your smiles.)

(you tell her that you’ve counted everything about her.)

you slip behind her, holding your own cup of coffee aloft, and she sinks into you, her back pressed against your front. you wrap your arm around her stomach, just to hold her — you can never get enough of how this feels, the liberty to keep her close to you — and you count every breath, slipping into a pattern.

the sun glints of the white shores stretching out along the beach, catching on golden glimmers in the waves.

she presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw, quick, and you take a sip of your coffee, the sweet flavors of the creamer spreading over your tongue.

perfect, perfect, perfect.

—

she dozes on the couch, a throw blanket covering her legs and an arm draped over her eyes, and oh, you don’t want to move her.

(your honeymoon has been – oh it’s been _amazing_.

but with her beside you, fingers slipping between your own, unconscious, searching, searching, searching, like they were always meant to fit between yours, you think anything with her is always going to be amazing.)

you’re tempted to join her, eyelids drooping at the sight of her sleeping, curled in on herself, facing the back of the couch. how simple it would be to merely slide behind her, pull her into the curve of your body.

but oh — you remember what you walked in her for — if there’s anything better than being asleep with Santana, it’s being awake with her.

your mouth twitches in a grin, and you sneak over to her slumbering form, heartbeat drumming in your chest, one steady drag after the other. you lean your elbows on the edge of the couch, the cushions dipping under the weight, and she shifts in her sleep, brow furrowing before smoothing out.

and you—

you wiggle your fingers into her side, pressing into familiar fabric.

the arm thrown across her face jerks, slipping from her eyes, and you don’t move your fingers, wiggle them a little more for good measure, and Santana reaches down to slap at your hand, a soft grumble escaping her lips.

“Britt,” she whines, shifting away from your insistent touch, eyes still closed and voice even raspier from sleep.

“come on.” you lean over her now, just as she turns her face more into the couch cushions. “i will tickle you, San.”

her eyes open, a sliver of brown, a challenging glint despite still being half-asleep.

you twist your fingers into the fabric of her shirt and make good on your threat. a laugh rumbles through her chest, quiet and breathless, and she tries to wriggle away from you, twisting sideways on the couch, but oh, you don’t let her get away.

you lay your weight on top of her, wiggling your fingers up and down her sides, warmth steadily growing beneath your sternum as her face scrunches up.

she’s gasping by the time you relent, her fingers wrapped loosely around your wrists, and you lean forward to touch your forehead against hers, taking in every shaky breath she exhales.

she blinks, sleepy yet elated, eyes shining as they dart between yours.

“i want to show you the crabs.”

she huffs out a laugh, a disbelieving sound, and you pull your wrists from her grasp, cup her face between your palms.

“that’s not what i was expecting.”

“they’re adorable,” you explain, sweeping your thumbs over the curves of her cheeks, poking at the dimples you find there. “like you.”

her mouth twists. “did you just compare me to a crab?”

“cute crabs.”

“that’s not the point. i am not—” and she struggles for a moment, trying to reverse your positions, but you don’t move against her feeble attempts to flip you. “—Britt, i’m not a crab.”

she’s pouting, and you have to kiss her, tease her lips between your own. and she’s dazed by the time you pull away.

“i want to show you. please?”

she could never resist you before.

(she still can’t now.)

—

night folds around you, and she’s scouring through the dunes of sand with only a flashlight to guide her, muttering under her breath.

you stand at her side, one arm wrapped through hers, and oh—

you tug at her elbow, point with a finger.

“oh, oh.” you nudge her to get her attention, drawing her down to peer a little closer through the darkness. “look, San, right over there.”

“ _oh_.”

a pale little crab pops up, tiny claws and beady black eyes, and Santana’s shifting beside you, head canting to the side.

“aren’t they cute?” you swing the beam of your phone’s flashlight, the light glancing on the edge of its shell as it scuttles about, unsure of itself, before diving back under the sand.

Santana snorts beside you, shaking her head. and you know you already won the second you got her outside.

“it is cute,” she concedes, tipping her chin down. her eyes catch yours. “are there more?”

(she’s never questioned your interests, attentive and inquisitive, and soft.

like she understands why you focus on the little things, the things people miss.

 _you see the world so differently from other people_ , she noted once, gaze impossibly soft and fingers laced through yours, squeezing tight. _i wish we could all appreciate it the way you do_.)

you grin, sliding your hand down from her elbow to her wrist, and grip tight. “tons. i’ll show you.”

you guide her alongside you, her fingers wiggling until they’re slipping through the gaps between yours. and she spends the rest of the night, your phone battery slowly draining away, crouched in the sand just beyond the surf echoing your delighted giggles at the sight of every tiny crab that pops its head out

(you prod at the dimple of her cheek, smug and not at all bothering to hide it. _they’re cute like you_.

she rolls her eyes, but oh, her smile never fades.)

—

you trace stars into the bare expanse of her back, the lines of her body soft and flush against yours, her breath evening out against your collarbone. she’s humming something against your skin, a familiar tone you feel tremble deep in your bones.

you slip your hand up her spine, playing with the damp ends of her hair.

“sing for me?” you ask, quiet, not wanting to fully disrupt the moment.

she cranes her neck up, locks her gaze with yours. her lashes are dark against her cheeks, her eyes even darker, and your heart warms again with every languid blink, soft with contentment.

“what do you want me to sing?” she murmurs, snaking an arm around your waist. her nose skims the underside of your jaw.

“anything.”

her brow furrows in thought before she starts singing low, barely above a whisper. but you don’t need to hear the words to know them. these lyrics have etched deep into your heart, have made a home in your very marrow.

(these are soul words she’s whispering to you now. ones you’ve kept beating beside your heart for years.)

“ _and i love you, i love you, i love you_ ,” her fingers trace the dip of your collarbone, swirl across your shoulder and down your arm. you catch her hand in yours. “ _like never before_.”

you can hear the ocean in the distance, the steady lap of each wave, the tide rushing up, down, up, down. fluid in its motion.

her eyes are glowing in the darkness, shining from the dim light slipping through the gaps in the blinds. you lose yourself in them, falling into those familiar warm depths, and oh, you see galaxies in every glimmer.

you see infinity in those eyes, taste it in the way she kisses you then, one hand tangled in yours and the other splayed across your clavicle, nails digging just enough into your skin. you breathe her in, eyes fluttering shut, the hand playing at the edges of her hair finding purchase as you cradle the back of her neck.

you know this sensation, this all-encompassing warmth, these too-big emotions that balloon in your chest every time you look at her, get to hold her like this, soft and trusting and loving against you.

it feels like forever, forever, forever, and despite your disbelief at times, you know it’s never going to leave.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the obligatory songbird but it seemed to fit, but thank y'all for reading!
> 
> (if you're curious, the inspiration of this fic came from me running around the beaches of animal crossing new horizons at 2 in the morning LOL)
> 
> title from: coastline by hollow coves


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